


privileged

by rarmaster



Series: yuboat drabbles [1]
Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, also yuan is a horse girl and i have a very good reason it's [HORSE NEIGHS LOUDLY AND CUTS ME OFF], yuan definitely returns the feelings but botta has neither a way to know that nor the courage to ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Horses definitely weren't something Botta would have listed at the top of of Yuan's interests, but it turns out Botta's wrong about a lot of things. Like being absolutely definitely not in love with his boss.





	privileged

**Author's Note:**

> ok no but really the explanation of horse girl Yuan is [this tweet](https://twitter.com/devlforgemaster/status/1025423606514253824) my friend made which then just became an inside joke and our collective favorite thing about Yuan, even though it's not, remotely canon in any sense outside the time he rode a horse in one of the openings of the OVA

“So… is _this_ where you’ve been spending your vacation days?” Botta calls, as soon as Yuan comes around the track again. Finding Yuan at some Tethe’allan ranch _riding horses_ isn’t exactly what Botta expected to find when he went searching for his boss this morning. Something about the notion seems… Botta isn’t sure. He just knows he wouldn’t have listed “horseback riding” anywhere near the top of the list of interests he was pretty sure Yuan had.

“Not all of them,” Yuan answers, slowing the horse to a halt near Botta. There’s an amused, almost smug smile on his lips, but when isn’t there, really? He doesn’t get off the horse, looking perfectly content where he is.

Botta raises his eyebrows, still leaning on the fence that separates the field from the track. He may be surprised to find Yuan here, but he knows Yuan too well to be fooled into thinking coming here was some spur of the moment thing. Yuan is way too comfortable on that horse for him to not do this regularly.

“But, most of them,” Botta guesses, pressing with a gentle tease that Yuan wouldn’t let anyone else get away with.

Yuan sighs. “Most of them,” he admits.

“Riding horses?” Botta asks, because he’s still not quite over that.

“I like horses,” Yuan replies, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah?” Botta can’t help but laugh. The sight of his boss on a horse, looking as natural as ever, isn’t funny, but the unexpectedness of the situation and how _serious_ Yuan looks makes it hard to do anything else.

Yuan’s eyes narrow a little, expression becoming defensive. “Don’t make fun of me,” he says. “They’re fantastic creatures!”

The horse shifts its weight under him, like it’s starting to get bored. Yuan immediately leans forward to pat its neck, whispering something soothing, attention for nothing but the horse until it calms down. Botta is… endeared, actually. Yuan looks at ease in ways he rarely does anywhere else.

“Besides…” Yuan continues, still bent over the horse’s neck, fingers running through its mane. “There’s nothing quite like riding one. Nothing else matches the speed, the wind in your hair—”

“Not even flying?” Botta interrupts, genuinely curious.

Yuan scoffs without hesitation. “Definitely not! That’s a different rhythm entirely.”

“I see,” Botta says like he understands, even though he doesn’t, not even a little bit. He can’t stop grinning. Even over something as strange as horses, talking with Yuan is always easy, light, a comfortable pattern that defines their everyday. Truthfully, Botta’d only sought Yuan out because the day had felt a little off-kilter without it, and he’d had the time to spare.

“You’re judging me,” Yuan says, straightening to meet Botta’s eyes. He still looks kind of defensive. Botta wishes he wouldn’t.

“No, no,” Botta assures him, quickly. “I’m just a little surprised, is all.”

“You don’t say.”

Botta shrugs, doesn’t stop smiling, can’t stop smiling. Instead of digging himself deeper into this hole—because any further protesting he does is only going to make Yuan more convinced he’s making fun—Botta changes the subject.

“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from keeping a few horses on base,” he tells Yuan. Maybe it’s an absurd thing to suggest, but he can’t stop thinking about how relaxed Yuan looks right now. Botta wishes he could always look that way. And if keeping a few horses is all Yuan needs for a reprieve from the weight that sits on his shoulders, then—

“A lot of things are, actually,” Yuan interrupts. He sounds… upset? There’s a sharpness in his tone that doesn’t make Botta flinch but it _does_ make him wilt, a little bit. He’d expected Yuan to be made happy by the idea, even if he didn’t say yes to it.

Botta pushes. He isn’t sure why. “Well, I’m sure it would cost a lot, but—”

“The weather is more what I’m worried about,” Yuan counters, eyes still narrowed, disapproval thick on his tongue. “Both of our bases are stationed in the most extreme weathers. Getting a horse to the Tethe’alla base is laughable. Keeping them in the Sylvarant base would be cruel. It’s a desert! Much too hot for them.”

“Oh,” Botta says. Yuan has a point, there.

Botta finds himself considering ways around that, anyway. After all, both bases are equipped with thermal regulation to keep the half-elves living in them comfortable and protected from either the heat or the cold; _certainly_ adjusting for a few horses wouldn’t be too difficult. But then, Botta supposes, the horses would likely need a lot of space, too, which would require renovations and expansions and—He gets about that far before he really catches up to himself, realizes what he’s thinking through even though Yuan already said no twice. Why do a bunch of horses matter, anyway? Because they’d make Yuan happy? Why… why does _that_ matter?

Botta frowns a little as he tries to puzzle that one out, because he’s not entirely sure how to feel about the conclusions he’s coming to. He doesn’t get very far in his somewhat startled musings when Yuan distracts him.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, Botta,” Yuan says, hopping off the horse and landing with angelic grace on solid ground. He turns and flashes a grin at Botta, and Botta’s heart _stops._ Oh no. Oh fuck. “But I’m definitely going to have to veto it.” Yuan’s eyes glimmer, playful, and Botta just straight up forgets how to breathe for a moment.

“Of course, sir,” he manages to get out, startled into formality by the realization he’s coming to.

Yuan’s eyebrows quirk upwards with confusion and maybe even worry—and no wonder, Botta hasn’t called Yuan ‘sir’ in years—but then the horse nickers, and Yuan’s attention is immediately pulled back to it. Botta isn’t sure if he’s grateful to have the moment to compose himself or if he’s—no, _no._ He is _not_ jealous of the horse!

“Besides…” Yuan says after a moment, his voice very soft. He presses his forehead to the horse’s. “Horses don’t… live very long. So it’s probably for the best. That would be a lot of friends to lose.”

Yuan sounds so _sad,_ which confuses Botta until he does the math. The average lifespan of a horse is, what, 30 years? Half-elves can live up to a thousand, and Yuan, longer than that. That… _would_ be a lot of horses, wouldn’t it? But…

“Friends?” he asks, caught somewhere between fond and surprised by the notion.

Yuan shoots him that defensive look with narrowed eyes again. Botta instantly regrets opening his mouth. “The bond between a horse and its rider is nothing to laugh at!” Yuan insists. “They’re loyal and faithful companions, willing to follow you to the ends of the world if you let them. They _care_ about you, and they _understand_ you, there’s this- this _connection_.”

Yuan’s tone transitions from defensive to passionate somewhere during his speech, and fondness fills Botta’s chest with warmth as he listens. Yuan’s love for horses is a little strange and unexpected, but he clearly cares _a lot_ about them and it’s…

 _Cute,_ is the first word that comes to Botta’s mind, but he’s apprehensive to use that one for a lot of reasons. The first being the obvious: calling Yuan, the 4000-years-old angel of death, _cute_ seems like some kind of taboo. The second being that if Botta’s in a position to be idly thinking Yuan _cute,_ he’s in a lot of trouble.

But…

Yuan pats the horse on the nose, then turns back to Botta. He sighs, his smile soft, and Botta grips the rail of the fence he’s leaning against, heart fast and a little light-headed. The reality of this moment hits him, _really_ hits him. Yuan, looking so totally at ease with his hands still fussing with the horse’s mane—he looks not like Yuan, Renegade Leader and one of the Four Seraphim, but like… a normal person.

Botta only knows four people who have been privileged enough to see Yuan like this, and he’s one of them.

How lucky. How incredible. Had he been anyone else, Yuan would have turned him away the moment he showed up here. Had he been anyone else, Yuan wouldn’t have even given him the coordinates for his location to begin with. How amazing it is, that Yuan trusts him this much, that Yuan trusts him at all.

When the crystal clear sensation of love grips Botta’s heart, he doesn’t fight it this time.

“Anyway,” Yuan says, after a long moment of silence. He pats the horse on the nose then comes and joins Botta by the fence. “Why’d you come to get me? Something wrong?”

“Ah,” Botta says, because—Well, the _honest_ answer is that he just missed Yuan. But _that,_ paired with the realization that he’s almost definitely in love with Yuan, is much more than he’s willing to confess to explicitly right now.

So…

“It’s just _I’m_ the one who has to handle all the paperwork when you’re gone,” Botta says, which is essentially telling Yuan the same thing without telling him at all. “And I have to say, you left me quite an impressive load this time—I’d almost think you took the day off on purpose!”

It’s the way they communicate, most of the time. Light teasing, only half-serious complaints delivered in loving tones. Yuan thrives on interactions like this—he isn’t quite cut out for the rigid role of a leader—but obviously Yuan can’t let every Renegade get away with giving him shit. The organization would fall apart entirely. So, this is another privilege reserved for just Botta. He’s never appreciated that more than he does in this moment.

Yuan smirks and raises his eyebrows at Botta. “Are you sure it’s a lot?” he asks. “I could have sworn I left you with a light load on purpose.” The lightness of his tone fills Botta’s chest to bursting.

“It’s less the amount, more the content,” Botta explains, playing along a little further with the excuse.

“Ahhh,” Yuan says, nodding slowly. He strokes his chin, either seriously considering something or pretending to consider it for show. Then he nods one last time, looking serious. “Tell you what,” he says.

The grin he flashes at Botta could melt a stone’s heart. Botta grins back easily.

“What?” he prompts.

“Stay with me a while,” Yuan offers, and it’s a near thing that Botta doesn’t choke. “The fresh air will help you clear your head, and then I can help you with whatever’s left when we go back.”

Does Yuan know what he’s offering? Probably.

Does he know the storm its causing in Botta’s heart? Oh, definitely not.

Not that Botta’d turn down the offer, of course. Every moment spent with Yuan is precious.

“I’d love that,” Botta says, grabbing Yuan’s outstretched hand.


End file.
